Too Late
by Ally Futuras
Summary: He was never there as a kid, when Desmond needed him most. Desmond had no use for him now, he didn't want the old man's pity or remorse. But then again, what made him any better if he acted just the same as his father did toward him.


"I'm fine with the life you've led, son. Proud of what you've been able to do." his father said softly. "It's alright to be scared every now and then."

He took a few steps closer to the younger man. Desmond backed away immediately.

"No," Desmond replied roughly, "Don't tell me that. Don't you dare try to be a dad, not at this very moment. Where were you when it really mattered?"

His childhood was not a great one. William would either be gone for days, away because of his assignments or at home, planning some other nonsense. He never had any time for his kid.

On a few rare occasions, no more than three times, did Desmond actually ever want to help his father with his work. His dad, of course, told him he was too young and sloppy, he'd be killed if he ever went along with William on an assignment.

"The only time you've ever thought of me as a son is when I do something related to the Assassin's. And even when I cared as a kid, you would blow me off." Desmond told him sternly.

Every time his father took a step forward to his son, Desmond would move backward. A disgusted look on his face filled with hurt and anger.

He remembered once when he was a child. Desmond looked through books to find out about the outside world. He'd fantasize that if his family ever lived out there, they'd be the clichéd type.

His father would've come home from work, suit and tie. Desmond pictured his father possibly becoming someone important, maybe a lawyer or doctor. His mother would be a stay at home mom and maybe a part of a book club or something like that.

He'd laugh every time he thought of it.

One thing Desmond thought he must've wanted was his father's attention, more than anything. Not as a man teaching him how to take a punch or how to pick a lock. As a dad, a real dad who cared for his kids. He craved the feeling unlike any other.

"Well, Desmond," his father said, "You were a toddler trying to come to work with me. Of course I was gonna tell you no.", he tried to reason.

Desmond could not believe what he was hearing. "No, it's not just that. I wanted a father! A real dad who took the time to care for me. Play some sports, buy me clothes," he pointed out.

William scoffed, "You had clothes! You had that football you always carried around too!" he exclaimed.

That wasn't the same.

"You don't understand," the young man mumbled. "It's not all about the things I had, I wanted a real dad that did things with me! Teach me to drive, fix a car together. You were always to busy with your own shit."

The older man nodded his head sadly but agreed, "I've done some mistakes in the past but, son, I'm here now."

Desmond scoffed as he sniffed and rubbed his nose. "I don't want you now. This guy, I needed him when I was a kid. I don't need you now." He tried to make his dad understand.

It was too late. Desmond doesn't need his father. He didn't need him now not for one fucking thing. It was too late for William to try and act like a dad. Way too late and he just didn't understand that. He was useless in Desmond's eyes now, Desmond is all grown up and his father was of no use to him. Completely and utterly useless.

He shouldn't have to tell his father this. William should know Desmond well enough to read him like a book. It's his son for crying out loud!

All the things he wanted to tell his father, but Desmond just couldn't put it to words. Yes his father was always around but he was never truly there. Always too busy to even speak with his son unless it was to yell at him.

"Whenever we spoke, it was always you screaming at me for doing something wrong!" Desmond told him. "We never had a real conversation."

This was true.

Whenever they did do something together once Desmond was old enough to help him with manual labor, his father always yelled at him.

It was never Desmond's fault that William never found the time to teach him about tools, or how to fix simple things. That's why Desmond was so clueless when they started doing work together.

William would yell at his son for not being able to bring him the right tools or for having sloppy hands and almost setting his entire room on fire because he didn't know how to work a fire extinguisher.

"You would just assume I knew everything. I was a kid!" he exclaimed. "You're only talking to me now because you know I'm doing something important. Fuck, I bet if I ever won the lottery you'd only track me down to get some of that money."

"That's not true, son," William told him, obviously hurt.

Desmond turned around, his hand coming up, "And stop calling me 'son', just because we're related by blood doesn't mean you're my dad. You didn't raise me, mom raised me. She raised me as well as she could because you weren't there."

He could practically say he never had a father. Desmond was brought up by his mother and that was that. His only family was his mom, no one else.

William was shocked at what he was hearing. He was hurt more than anything.

"Can't you forgive me. Let by gones be by gones. I'm really sorry," he said quietly. "Come on, have a heart, Desmond." He was practically begging by now.

Desmond shook his head and held back the tears that were just aching to come out. Yes, this man was his father and nothing would change that but he had to start acting like one.

Even though he was an asshole and cared for no one but himself, this man was Desmond's father. Just thinking about losing someone related to him hurt Desmond. As much as he hated to admit, yes there was at least some love there.

But still, things were tough. People do horrible things. Should you forgive them?

"Don't. You take that 'have a heart' bullshit to someone else. Someone who doesn't know you like I do. The shit you'd do." he told his father with a disgusted look on his face.

"But, Desmond, I'm your father," he whispered.

The air around them was tense. The young man sniffed and exhaled as he rubbed away the tears. Desmond would not let his voice break, not in front of _Him._

"Alright, dad, I forgive you. Fine, I'll forget all that's happened in the past," he said angrily, "But I will never trust you. Not in the way a son would trust his father. You're a complete stranger to me."

That somehow eased the tension. It opened up some lines of communication and although William still didn't quite understand, he was content. He'd at least been forgiven for all the God awful things he had done in the past.

"Nothing goes as planned. Ever." Desmond said silently, "But that's alright. It's alright now."

Although they were at each others throats all the time and his father was such a jerk, Desmond couldn't keep living with the pain in his chest, weighing him down. He'd have to forgive his father.

" _No man should pass from this world without knowing some kindness."_


End file.
